Truce
by Syolen
Summary: Somehow, he couldn't help but notice the young woman who dared walk the streets of Kyoto alone after dark and wielded only a bokken. It was only a matter of time before their paths crossed.
1. Truce

**Title:** Truce

**Chapter:** 1/?

**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** Somehow, he couldn't help but notice the young woman who dared walk the streets of Kyoto alone after dark and wielded only a bokken. It was only a matter of time before their paths crossed.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Notes:** Mandatory Bakumatsu AU, because there are only 12094389701 of those. :P  
**Disclaimer:** Would I be flailing so hard over not getting a proper live-action movie release if I owned RK? Didn't think so.

Truce

The first time he sees her, she has her back to a wall and is fighting off three men.

They probably thought they could easily take advantage of a young woman walking alone at night. He hides in the shadows, ready to intervene if she needs help, but her strikes are strong and precise and she quickly sends all three men to eat dirt at her feet - he releases the hilt of his katana as they scurry away.

* * *

The next time comes a few nights later. She tenses when she senses someone walking behind her and looks back at him.

The light of her lantern reveals the bokken propped against her shoulder - _only a bokken, she uses only a bokken…!_ Her eyes search the darkness around her. She appears wary, but not scared or openly aggressive. _She is too trusting_, is his first thought,_ not suited for this age and city_. Then he remembers the way she dealt with her attackers the other night, remembers that this is not the first time he sees her walking alone, after dark, in the dangerous streets of Kyoto. If she hasn't been eaten alive yet…

"Who's there?", she calls. She sounds annoyed more than anything else, not willing to waste time fighting lowlifes again. He would smirk; maybe even smile, if Battousai weren't on the hunt tonight.

He melts away in the blackness - Battousai leaves no witnesses but she's not one, she never saw him, he's sure of it.

* * *

The light of day reveals her eyes as blue. She has traded her hakama for a light yellow kimono, but her hair is still in a ponytail. He sees her walking up the riverbank from his vantage point at the window of his room in Okina-san's inn.

Then Iizuka walks in, black envelope in hand, and she slips out of his mind entirely.

* * *

Tonight is not a good night. The moon is red; the air is unusually hot and oppressive, he cannot stop thinking about that man's will to live but no one, _no one_ ever escapes Battousai and it's making him _sick_, everything tastes, smells, _reeks_ of blood and he is…

"You're bleeding."

He starts. He never sensed her coming but doesn't have time to berate himself for it because she is inching closer, a concerned look on her face.

"Are you okay? Your cheek is bleeding."

He can only stare, dumbfounded.

"That looks pretty deep…" She's close, too close, extending her hand and almost crossing the limit of the virtual circle that every swordsman keeps clear around himself… Survival instinct speaks.

"You should not talk to strangers."

She huffs. Dozens, dead by his hand and she _huffs_. "I know who you are! You're staying at the inn a few blocks up the river; I've seen you around."

"… That… doesn't make me a commendable person." He avoids looking into her eyes, they're too honest, too open - he is used to samurai faces betraying nothing. In the dark it's easy.

"A while back," she replies, her voice softening some, "you were ready to help me when those thugs attacked me. And a few days ago, you were walking behind me - you didn't answer when I called, too; that was rude."

She… this time he can only stare at her again and subconsciously tighten his hold on his sword - only the strongest captains of the Shinsengumi have been able to detect his presence like this and this _girl_, barely his age…

She takes a step back, bowing formally.

"I'm Kamiya Kaoru, assistant master of the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu. Those who underestimate me usually wake up the next morning with bruises and a bad headache," she adds with a cocky grin, tapping her bokken on her shoulder for good measure. The threat is thinly veiled and he eyes her carefully. Battousai could take her out in a second but she hasn't been branded an enemy. And, more importantly, she is _talking to him_.

"Kenshin." He nods his head. His fingers now barely brush his scabbard. "My name is Kenshin. I apologize for not answering the other night; I was in a hurry."

"Just Kenshin?"

Silence. His fingers flex.

"Very well. Apology accepted. Now, about your wound…"

_Truce_.

* * *

Kaoru smiles when she comes across him at the market two days later. His own smile is shy, tentative, barely creasing the bandage she placed on his cheek.

It is there nonetheless.


	2. The Lessons That We Learn

**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings: **None.  
**Disclaimer:** Still not mine.

**Note:** To Broomclosetkink and S J Smith, _because_.

The Lessons That We Learn

She sees him again a few nights later; there is no mistaking that red hair. This time, he is the one walking in front of her. His shoulders are slumped; his steps are slow, heavy… Worried, Kaoru quickens her pace to catch up with him. He hears her, and turns to face her before she can call his name. She doesn't miss how his hand grips the hilt of his katana, but his face is hidden in shadows. The air bristles around him, disturbed by ki. _He carries himself like a wounded animal_, she realizes. Like a wounded animal that would rather escape the world to nurse its wounds, but that _will_ turn vicious if cornered. This is what his ki feels like. Like that of a wounded animal. All the more deadly for his pain.

_Well, too late to turn back_, she thinks. He has heard her, is looking at her expectantly, and Kaoru knows that she's been staring.

"Ah… Good evening, Kenshin," she starts. "I thought it was you…"

He nods in return but says nothing.

"Are you okay?" No point in wasting time in small talk – his ki warns her, he is pained, angry, scared, sick… deadly.

Kaoru cannot see his eyes. For once, she is glad for the shadows that surround them.

"Yes," he finally says, barely above a murmur. He seems to shake himself then, stands a little bit straighter, finally lets go of his sword. The darkness is still there, she can tell. He has just swallowed it, tucked it into some little corner of his heart, quickly enough that Kaoru knows that he has done so many times before. She cautiously steps forward, her own ki brushing against his. _Nothing_. _He's swallowed that darkness, leaving nothing in its wake…_ But he is whispering again, "Forgive me, I…"

"It's still bleeding?" she doesn't let him finish. The scene feels awfully familiar to him; Kaoru has raised her lantern to see him better and is once again extending her hand towards his cheek and his most recent wound, concerned. He takes a small step back before she can touch it.

"Yes," he answers, his own fingers gently probing the still-bleeding cut. "It did reopen a couple of times. It's nothing though."

"Maybe you should have a doctor stitch it up…" Kaoru doesn't bother with pretence when it comes to others – her thoughts and feelings are painted clearly on her face. There is still worry whirling in her eyes, and she is clearly not convinced.

It's unnerving how she can read him, how she cares for this man she barely knows. Her blatant concern for him catches him off guard. She shouldn't bother; really, he is only a bloody sword, carving a bloody path to a new era. A mean to an end, for the people of Japan. This litany lulls him to sleep every night.

"No, really, it's nothing," Kenshin even tries smiling this time, to emphasize his words, and quickly changes the subject. He is nothing but a sword. "What has you out at this hour, Kaoru-dono?"

She gives him a _look_, clearly doubting his words, but has the grace to let it go, and for that he is grateful. Several black envelopes have come since he first talked to her and he has spent most nights since like this present one: hunting, then staggering back to the inn. Discussing more blood, with Kaoru-dono of all people, is beyond him, not when he can feel it drying under his nails, not when its smell is everywhere. But Kaoru simply resumes walking and he falls into step with her.

"I teach classes at the Maekawa dojo," she answers. "It's a bit far from here and we finish late, so I often end up getting home after dark."

"They never walk you back?"

"They've offered to several times, and they would if I asked, but there really is no need to. I can take care of myself, like you've seen yourself," she smiles at his nod before continuing, thrilled that he would acknowledge her abilities so easily. "Besides, the only people that bother me are drunk thugs like the ones you saw, and I can certainly deal with those. The more skilled fighters are all busy fighting this war; they wouldn't waste their time on me."

She waves her hand as she mentions the war, her opinion of it clear. Somehow, Kenshin cannot say he is surprised. "You don't approve of this war," he says, knowing he is merely stating a fact.

"Of course not! People die by the hundreds, how could anyone approve of that?"

"And yet you teach kenjutsu…"

And that was clearly one too many words, because she stops dead in her tracks and levels him with a heated glare. He feels like he's gone from wounded predator to cowering pup, and instinctively recoils.

"I teach Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, the Sword that protects Life, as my father created it. He believed that swords should be used not to kill, but to protect. We _never_ take lives."

Something stirs inside of Kenshin at her words, something he cannot quite identify. A memory of something he had dreamed of what felt like a long, long time ago. The Sword that protects Life… It evokes summer days, the buzz of cicadas, children's laughter… But the vision is gone before he has time to grasp it. _This_ is the night of Kyoto at war, a world away from that peaceful image, and Kenshin has learned not to dream his life away.

"A sword is a weapon," he replies after a moment, looking down at his feet as he recites the words. "Kenjutsu is the art of killing. No matter how you disguise it, that is the truth of it. The _only_ truth of it. This is what my master taught me, and I believe he is right, but…", but he is not fighting this war for himself, "what you describe, utopic as it is…", how beautiful would it be, a peaceful era, where swords would be swung only to protect? "However this war ends, I wish it can come true." Like an endless summer day…

"You do?" Kaoru is sceptical, but then again, she, and her father before her, has been called a naïve fool so many times…

"Yes." Kenshin tries smiling again, and this time it comes to him a little more easily. Her thanks are heartfelt, and she gives him one of her own smiles in appreciation before they resume walking.

_We have similar dreams, after all_… Dreams of peace, even if they have vastly different ways to go about them. He may be fighting to bring down an entire government, he knows that, in the end, it will be the little things, the ones that happen on a much smaller scale, like Kaoru spreading dreams a peace and life, to make his ideal new era real.

She hears him sigh and senses him relax, ever so slightly. His ki does not feel like that of a cornered predator anymore, nor it is completely blank. It is… calm. Soothed, and that is more than she hoped to accomplish when she first called his name. When they reach the gate of the dojo, she asks again if he needs any help for his wound. He refuses politely, bids her good night, and continues on to the inn.

It is only once in his room, feeling more at peace than he has in months, that Kenshin realizes that his cheek has stopped bleeding.

* * *

They see each other often after that, at night on her way back from the Maekawa dojo or on the riverbank during the day. Kaoru tells him many stories from her childhood – that she was actually born in Edo, but her father learned kenjutsu in Kyoto and returned there to open his own dojo –, from growing up in the capital and learning the way of the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu from her father.

Kenshin is quiet and reserved at first. But he listens to her ramble about kenjutsu, the weather, an upcoming festival, _anything_, and never calls her a foolish woman for it, which is more than Kaoru can say about most people. He gives her his opinion when prompted, and she is starting to put the pieces together. He is not from Kyoto – a given, since he doesn't use the Kyoto dialect when he speaks – and only here because of the war – imperialist, she guesses, if his idealistic views, so close to her own, in a way, are anything to go by. He never talks about it, and always eludes the subject when she brings it up – _he's seen the ugliness of it then, blood and death_…

Still, as days pass, Kenshin gradually opens and starts sharing some stories of his own – bits and pieces and quirks of people he has met at first, then stories about himself, mostly revolving around his master. Kaoru can just picture him: a monster of a man, up on his lonely mountain – Kenshin swears he is not even joking. She can't suppress her chuckles.

She laughs easily. His cheek has stopped bleeding. He may not say much, but he listens intently.

And learns.


	3. Under The Cherry Tree You'll See

**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings: **None.  
**Disclaimer:** Alas, no.

**Note:** A little respite before going back to angst in the next chapter. Also, timeline? What timeline? O:-D

Under The Cherry Tree You'll See

"… The poor boy fell into the garden pond and destroyed all the plants, my father got so mad!"

"This is the pond you said he had spent the whole season working on?"

"Yes, can you imagine? We practically ruined it! Shinji got into so much trouble…"

It's an unusually warm spring day, the first truly warm day of the year. Winter has been tenacious this year, until it seemed to remember that it had overstayed its welcome, packed up, and left, leaving warm sunny days in its wake.

It warms the city's wounds; flower scents chase the stench of blood away from people's minds. Most of them are out to enjoy it.

"And you didn't? You did push him…"

"Oh yes," Kaoru laughs at the memory. "But I explained that Shinji had insulted me and that I had only been defending my bruised honour. It wasn't the first time one of his students did so Tou-san believed me, but he still wanted to make me understand that one's actions, no matter how justified, have consequences, you know?"

"Yes," there's a rich lull to Kenshin's voice, as if he too is laughing at their younger selves' predicaments, "my master made that clear _very_ early on."

"The way you keep talking about him, he must be terrifying."

Safe grounds, conversations they've had before. Kenshin relaxes, and Kaoru seems to be thoroughly enjoying herself.

"He is, but not as much as _you_ obviously were. I wouldn't want the two of you to meet, sparks would fly."

"Now you're just flattering me..."

The cherry trees are finally blooming.

* * *

They make a startling contrast, Kenshin thinks, with her bright yellow kimono and his dark blue gi and grey hakama. Fitting even, considering, but he doesn't dwell on the thought. His heart has grown numb to many things in the past months, but Kaoru's laughter isn't one of them.

* * *

Kaoru mentions once, in passing, that she is going to need a new ribbon for her hair. The one she has is old, threadbare, and constantly slips down her ponytail.

So Kenshin does the natural thing: he leaves the inn one morning – when he knows that Kaoru will be training, in her dojo and away from the market – and buys her one. Royal blue, like her old one probably once was – it will bring out her eyes, and go well with her yellow kimono.

He carries it with him until he meets her again, hoping it will happen sooner rather than later, because what will he do if she has already got a new one?

To his immense relief, she hasn't. She is still using her usual one. He is walking her to the Maekawa dojo for a change. Birds chirping. People going about their daily business with a lighter step than usual. The sun still shines, but a soft breeze keeps the day from getting too warm. When Kaoru rearranges her hair _again_, Kenshin pulls out his gift and mumbles an explanation. "You said you needed one," he whispers, "so…um… here."

What follows is a litany of thank-you's and you-shouldn't-have's that Kenshin barely hears because Kaoru-dono seems so brilliantly _happy_, because of _his_ gift, that he finds himself smiling like he hasn't in… like he hasn't in forever, and he doesn't even mind the blush spreading on his cheeks. It's amazing, how Kaoru-dono's entire face lights up when she smiles, so much that it warms him, too. His heart swells and pounds hard in his chest, enough to leave him feeling dizzy.

_It is, indeed, the little things that matter_, his inner voice notes. He is not sure of what it means, this sudden rush of feelings. He does not really understand why Kaoru reacts so strongly, why it affects him so much, all over something as mundane as a ribbon. Yet whatever it is, Kenshin decides he'll worry about it later.

Kaoru lets her hair down, then quickly ties it back up with her new possession.

"How do I look?" she asks him. Her smile hasn't shrunk; her eyes are eager, hopeful… _Oh_. The ribbon really does match her eyes.

* * *

_Kamiya Kaoru is easily noticeable. The occasional training clothes and bokken, a high ponytail that resembles a warrior's more than a woman's hairdo, blue eyes… Yes, there is no mistaking her._

And so, hidden eyes watch.


	4. The Bitter Rain

**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings: **A bit of gore. Swordsmen doing their thing.  
**Disclaimer:** Alas, no.

**Note the First:** My sister told me that, in Chinese, the characters used to write "Himura" mean "The hand that kills". The hand. That. Kills. And given that Katsura probably gave Kenshin that name… Yep.

**Note the Second:** It boils down to: OMG GUYS, thank you SO much for reviewing and adding to favorites! Just thinking about it makes me grin like a fool; you're all so kind! I do my best so that this little story of mine lives up to your expectations!

Now back to the angst, as promised. :D

The Bitter Rain

Frowning as she looks at the sky for the umpteenth time, Kaoru quickens her pace. The clouds are heavy with rain and seem to be hanging lower every time she glances up to the night sky. Ever the optimist, she is still clinging to the hope that she will make it home dry when the wind picks up, announcing the impending downpour. Well, if not dry, then maybe not completely soaked to the bone? Almost running, she turns into an alley to her right, trying to remember if this shortcut really is the shortest way back to the Kamiya dojo.

Her musings are interrupted by the sound of a commotion somewhere to her left. It's close, very close, and she immediately recognizes the unmistakable sound of steel clashing against steel. Imperialists fighting Bakufu supporters? Or - the thought makes her stop - an innocent being attacked by bandits? There are more and more of them these days who take advantage of the chaos Kyoto is plunged into, and such a dark night would give them the perfect cover… She knows it is stupid, foolish, and everything in between, but she is the Assistant Master of the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, has sworn to use her skills to protect those who need it… and just taking a look, if she is stealthy and hides herself well, won't hurt.

Blowing out the light of her lamp and tightening her hold on her bokken, she creeps down the street, careful to stay below the overhangs of roofs above her, silent as a shadow. The clashes she hears are too fast and too strong for it to be a mere fight between drunken men. Bandits would have fled long ago, not willing to risk being caught. Besides, the two ki are strong, very strong. She reaches the conclusion that it can only be two samurai fighting as she rounds a corner and finally sees them, still several yards away.

Her eyes take several seconds to adjust to the men's movements – half-hidden by shadows, they're so fast she has a hard time discerning whose sword just narrowly blocked an attack and is now retaliating furiously. She hears one of them grunt and the other stifle a cry, and knows blood has been drawn.

She should leave before they notice her. These men are certainly not helpless and she knows better than to get involved in samurai business. But just as she begins her retreat, the two fighters move closer to her and she finally gets a clearer look at them. The one that faces her wears dark, tight clothes, a mask covers the lower half of his face and a long chain is attached to the hilt of his sword. _Ninja_. Kaoru identifies him as he tries to swing the chain around his opponent. An opponent with... red hair.

"Kenshin!" she gasps. Her first reaction is fear for her friend – who else could it be? – but if he hears her, he does not react. He blocks an attack, launches one of his own, that the ninja dodges. Still, it's obvious that Kenshin has the upper hand, and keeps pushing the other man. Strike, parry, strike, step, _strike_, Kenshin is implacable, exploits every single opening his opponent might leave him. For a second, her fear eases and the swordswoman in her recognizes his tremendous skill…

For a second only.

Kaoru's instinct screams at her that something is off, something is terribly off. The ninja clearly doesn't stand a chance; all three of them know that. And yet Kenshin never relents, as if he wants to _crush_ his attacker, the ninja tries again to get the chain around him only for Kenshin to seize it, pull it, step, strike…

A crunch. The sickening sound of sword cutting through flesh, organs, bones. Kaoru stares in morbid fascination as the ninja falls to the ground. Dead, or soon to be. Her own mind is blank, unable to process what she has just seen because this can _not_ be the man who has walked her home from the Maekawa dojo…

"Will you kill her too, Battousai?" The ninja. The ninja, he's still alive, he's pointing at her and oh_ Gods_, she can't have heard right, there have been so many stories, it _can't_ be…

She gasps a "no", hand coming up to cover her mouth. Her bokken falls forgotten at her feet, along with her lantern. This time Kenshin hears the noise; spins back, searing golden eyes pierce and burn her as he raises his sword, ready to strike again… but finally freezes when he recognizes her. There is blood spattered on his face. There is blood _everywhere_.

Kaoru stares at him in horror, eyes wide, and he can only stare back, frozen on the spot. His grip on his sword loosens, enough that the weapon clatters to the ground. The sound startles her enough to get her moving backwards, shaking her head in denial. A second, suspended. When no denial comes, she spins on her heel completely, and runs. He tries to follow, calls out her name weakly but, by the time he reaches the spot where she just stood, she is already far away.

* * *

Kaoru runs, and runs, blindly runs as fast as she can. The stories she has heard, that the entire city has been repeating… The ninja falling… Blood on his face… Blood _everywhere_… She never notices the rain now soaking her clothes.

* * *

He tries talking to her several times after that, tries to see her when she's at the market, thinking she'll feel safer surrounded by people, but each time she bolts like a scared doe and moves away from him. He tries, but gives up after a few days. Too close, too soon.

He watches her go and vanishes into the crowd, wears self-disgust and -hatred like armour around himself, shuts his mind to everything that is not his duty. He is nothing but a blood-soaked sword. A mean to an end, for the sake of a new era. Her sword protects; his destroys. It was only a matter of time before he tore down what little he and Kaoru had, too.

He knew, he knew he would have to tell her at some point, but that was _not_ how it was supposed to happen. And now… Now everything reeks of blood.


	5. My Heart In Your Open Hand

**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings: **None.  
**Disclaimer:** Nope. Which begs the question: where is my Kenshin?

**Note:** This one was tricky to write. I hope I got it right…

My Heart In Your Open Hand

Rain. Droplets roll down her face, soak her to the bone. Kaoru is cold.

Rain. She turns one corner, then another. Rain is the only thing she hears, the only thing she smells. She turns left, and left again. Her steps draw a spiral in the streets, as she slowly gets closer to the center. She knows what she'll find there, but she needs to be _sure_, because maybe there's still hope…

Rain. Oh, she dreads reaching the center, her stomach clenches, her throat constricts in fear. But she _needs_ to know…

Rain. Now she sees him. Them. Human-shaped shadows, falling, and in their midst, harsh as lightning and just as implacable…

Rain… Blood. Blood, blood, blood, _blood_, it's raining blood.

Kaoru wakes up with a wordless scream in her throat and her heart hammering in her chest, and does not go back to sleep.

* * *

He has stopped trying to approach her, but the lethal strike still replays in Kaoru's mind at night, over and over again. The surgical precision. The brutal efficiency. And the hard, searing golden eyes… She is repulsed by the idea that it could all come from her sweet, soft-spoken Kenshin.

For days, she refuses to see him. Her mind is still reeling and on constant alert, but she never senses even a wisp of his ki. Kaoru goes on with her life: she shops at the market, teaches her classes at the Maekawa dojo but she gets home exhausted, her nerves frayed. She tries training to calm herself, but every strike reminds her of what _he_ could do with them.

* * *

Days.

Then comes a point when she has had _enough_. Harsh golden eyes still invade most of her waking moments and plague her dreams, but she's beginning to feel more angry than scared. Her frustration (at herself because the Kamiya are _not _cowards, the Kamiya face their fears, yet she's been behaving like a little girl hiding behind her mother's legs; and at him, because although he did not outright lie to her, he still wasn't honest, and she _trusted_ him, dammit) has her change into her training clothes and grab her favourite bokken before she marches out of the gate of her dojo.

She is no frightened little girl. She will face him, sword expert to sword expert.

Kaoru walks up the riverbank, her mind focused. The world around her blurs; she will not give it a chance to distract her and make her lose her nerve.

She finds Battousai – oh, he's Battousai all right, she can admit it now, but a name is just that, a name, and she will not fear it. His sword, maybe, his cold, unforgiving stare, yes, but not his name – sitting at the window of his room at the inn. His bright red hair catches the light, setting it ablaze. He is watching the passers-by and she wonders what he sees in them. But she will ask him later. She walks directly into his line of sight, boldly looks up at him. He visibly jumps, his hand grabs the window frame tightly as he stares at her with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Kaoru holds his gaze. She has the upper hand, at least for now, and it makes her feel brave. Before he has time to recover, she shakes her head and points to a quieter street leading away from the riverbank. Unsure for a second, he nods. Not waiting for him, Kaoru makes her way to the other street.

The hustle and bustle of the riverbank vanishes the minute she rounds the corner. Kaoru forces herself to breathe slowly, evenly. In the months she has known him, Kenshin has never given her a reason to fear him. But Battousai…. Battousai goes against everything she believes in. She has questions, questions that she will demand answered, and if he cannot give a satisfying reply, then…

She tightens her hold on her bokken, draws strength from its comforting presence and ignores the fact that she doesn't stand a chance against Battousai, not really, but Kenshin…

"Kaoru-dono…"

The soft voice is most definitely Kenshin's but she does not smile when she turns to face him (oh, if she had her back to him then she doesn't _really_ fear for her life, does she?). Her own voice is perfectly steady as she speaks.

"Will you kill me?"

"What?" Not the introduction he expected. Perfect.

Kaoru crosses her arms under her chest. "No witnesses, aren't those your orders? I saw you the other night. So, will you do it?"

"No."

"I know which inn you're staying at, I could just…"

"_No!_ Stop that! I won't kill you. I would never hurt you." Using the word "kill" while thinking of Kaoru-dono feels so _wrong_, Kenshin has to force himself to say it.

But Kaoru leaves him no respite, attacks from another angle. "Why are you doing this?"

Ah, there it is. Both know that he cannot fail this one. Kenshin looks down at the ground, gathers his thoughts, tries to organize them. He has to make her see, _has_ to make her understand. If the past days have taught him something, it is that she is far too precious, that he does _not_ want to lose her.

"Because… because I was born in a small village, to farmers, and I have seen people slave away for lords that would rather they starve to death in winter than cut back on their taxes. Because I've seen parents mourn their children, or sell them to slave traders so that they'd have one less mouth to feed."

He looks up at her then, looks straight into her eyes and holds her gaze. While his explanation started as a whisper, Kaoru can now hear fire in his voice, fervour, and his unwavering belief that he is doing the right thing. "These children never make it back home, Kaoru-dono. They're used and worn to the bone, and thrown out when they can no longer serve. Lives wasted for lords who sit comfortably in their homes and who could not care less. They can always be replaced, can't they? And if they try to protest, those lords won't hesitate to have several of them murdered, innocent or not, to scare the others."

"I know cold, Kaoru-dono", Kenshin swallows, then presses on, "I know cold and hunger and fear, and I cannot sit back and watch more people suffer and die under this corrupt and unfair government, not when I've gained the strength to do something about it. You told me Kamiya Kasshin Ryu is the sword that protects life. Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu is the sword wielded to defend those who cannot defend themselves, and I have vowed to do so. I fight so that the poor and weak can have a better chance at life, I fight so that merit and talent can come to mean more than birth and status, and for this, the Bakufu must be brought down. The new era will never be perfect, of course. It will not bring peace and happiness to everyone. But if it is even just the slightest bit fairer to its people, then I _have_ to carry on, even if it means dirtying my sword."

Kenshin stills, breath short, at the end of his tirade. There is little more he can say. He can only stand very, very still and wait for Kaoru to make up her mind – he tries to quiet his mind and ignore the way her teeth worry her lower lips or how her hand repeatedly clenches around the hilt of her bokken, but her silence stretches. Still, he will respect her decision, no matter what it is. She deserves this much, and if he ends up alone again… then it is only where he belongs.

* * *

"For a better chance at life…" _Of course_. Kaoru knew there had to be a good explanation to what she had seen. Still, even though she hates herself for what she is about to say next, there is one last thing that she needs to know. Yet it is her turn to whisper.

"They'll offer you a position in the government…"

Kenshin doesn't miss a heartbeat. "I won't accept it. I couldn't care less about that."

"No? You'd be good at it though. You of all people know the price being paid for this new era; you wouldn't let it go to waste."

"I don't want it. I couldn't accept any reward for the blood I've spilled; no one should be respected for that. I am not asking for forgiveness, Kaoru-dono, but please, try to understand…"

Ah, her self-deprecating Kenshin. It feels like they have come full circle and Kaoru fervently wishes that the Emperor knows about the honourable men fighting for his return to power… and the price that they are paying.

She is silent for a long moment as she thinks Kenshin's words over. Finally, she relents.

"You are a good man, Himura Kenshin. Better, perhaps, than many of us could ever hope to be. I won't ever approve of the Shishi's methods, but I do apologize for doubting _you_. Just… give me a little time to get used to it, okay?"

She smiles at him again, for the first time in far too long, and he feels a heavy weight being lifted from his shoulders, air reaching more easily into his lungs.

"Of course", he breathes. Wonder of wonders, Kaoru's warm smile turns impish.

"In the meantime…" she turns away and walks towards the other end of the street. She is willingly giving him her back again, a symbol of trust among swordsmen, "I believe you owe me lunch."

Lunch. _Lunch_. Stunned, elated, his heart swelling till it's in his throat, Kenshin wants to run to her and hug her, hold her tight and let her know just how much her acceptance and approval mean to him. But they're in public and he doesn't want to push his luck just yet, so he quickly catches up with her and brushes her hand instead, the one that is still holding her bokken.

"_Thank you_, Kaoru-dono," he hopes with all his might that his words have the appropriate weight; but briefly squeezing her hand for emphasis is all he dares, "thank you."

She shakes her head, "You are too kind, Kenshin. It may be your biggest fault. Your heart is too kind. Your sword should be building the new era, not destroying the old one… But anyway, how about the Shirobeko?"

Her last comment startles him, but Kenshin decides to let it slide, for now at least. He chuckles instead in response to her question, and her friend's laughter is music to Kaoru's ears.


	6. A Woman In The Crowd

**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings: **Italics galore.  
**Disclaimer:** Alas, no.

**Notes:** In which Kaoru paraphrases Thorin Oakenshield. Spot the quote? :P And yes, the first scene was directly inspired by the live action movie. ^^

Dedicated to the awesome Broomclosetkink, who is a STAR. Are you reading her _Questions of Power_? Isn't it brilliant? :D

Brought to you by Sato Takeru's pretty face and perfect lips.

A Woman in the Crowd

Kaoru leaves the dojo unhurried that morning – she has already practiced her kata and had breakfast, which leaves her little but chores for the day. Groceries, cleaning… even training, Kaoru wishes there was someone living with her so she would not have to be alone. Wishes that she had an apprentice. A girl, maybe, to keep showing the world that women are as capable as men, but she would be just as happy with a boy. Loyalty, honour, a willing heart… She could ask, and would ask, for no more than that.

To honour her father's memory, she has to teach. Everything he worked so hard to built will mean nothing if she does not. She knows this, down to the marrow of her bones.

Ah. After the war, maybe. There is too much violence around now. While people rushed to get their children trained when the rebellion first began, years of unrest have made them wary. So many boys have run away from home with their swords, eager to join the fight, and never come back… People hide the children away now, and only the oldest, most respected schools survive, like Maekawa-san's. The Kamiya Kasshin Ryu and its ideals, so at odds with the rest, had no chance… The few students who stayed out of respect for her father disappeared soon after his death, leaving her alone in a too-big dojo. If only…

A large crowd blocking the way ahead pulls her out of her musings. Kaoru can sense shock and fear hanging heavy in the air, read it in the people's body language – worried looks, stiff shoulders, tense steps, hushed whispers. Getting closer and standing on her toes to see over their shoulders, she quickly understands what is causing the commotion: a body is lying a few meters ahead. A man's, probably in his forties. A straw cover has been hastily thrown over him but his eyes, open and empty, are still visible. Dry blood and mud mar his face. Four other bodies lie scattered nearby, also covered, waiting to be taken away. From their clothes, Kaoru guesses they are a government official and his bodyguards. Blood pools on the ground. Another assassination. The Ishin Shishi's _Tenchuu_.

_Assassinations normally happen closer to government buildings, not around here… No wonder people are so shocked_. She can't quite suppress the flashes of that fateful night that jump to the front of her mind, nor the shudder that runs through her. She does not have to imagine what happened here.

Yet she also knows that these men's faces will haunt the Shishi's assassin for a very, very long time.

Some people are pale, stricken, visibly scared. Others are crying. One woman, in particular, stumbles inside the circle, only to be held back by two other women. Her cries tear through the eerie silence that has descended on the street, and bury themselves in Kaoru's heart.

(She knows what it is, to come home and find a loved one dead. She cried, too, like this woman is crying.)

Her eyes never leave one of the bodies. Following her gaze, Kaoru's own eyes fall upon one of the bodyguards. The woman may have tried to run to him, but he is far beyond help. He does not appear to be much older than her. She is mourning a husband, or a brother.

After the initial shock wears off, the crowd starts talking again, loud enough that Kaoru can make out what they say. One name makes the rounds. _Battousai_. The name echoes through the crowd as each voice adds a supposed piece of evidence to accuse him – his lust for blood, cruel, crazed, maddened, vicious… They call him a demon; drop the name like an absolute sentence condemning him. Who, if not the demon? Kaoru wishes she could shut them all up and tell them just how very _human_ Battousai is, when something in her peripheral vision catches her eye.

There, his flaming red hair hidden by a straw hat, is Kenshin. She gasps as she recognizes him. What is he doing here, exposing himself to this? He isn't paying any attention to her. In fact, he is looking straight at the crying woman and at the bodies being taken away. No doubt he can hear the whispers in the crowd. _Why are you here?_ It isn't like he is required to feign some sort of interest so he must be here on his own free will, but why? Why would he torture himself like this?

His skin is ashen; his lips slightly parted to draw laboured breaths but his eyes… oh Gods, his eyes. They are _dead_. Dead, blank, not showing any of the life and wits Kaoru _knows_ are in him. Still, he watches. He stands with one shoulder slightly lower than the other, as if he wants to curl in on himself, and his hands are shaking, but still, he watches. Kaoru starts moving towards him but by the time she manages to extract herself from the crowd, he has vanished.

* * *

_It is easy to learn about her too. In a city as big as Kyoto, gossip and rumours abound, and a female kenjutsu teacher living alone in her dojo is sure to draw attention. All it takes is to walk through the market a few minutes after she does. Yes, that was her; yes, she always shops here; yes, she always comes at this time of the day, when her classes allow it. _

_It is all too easy._

* * *

Himura Kenshin is a good man. A genuinely good man.

Kaoru discovered this early on, when he first started walking with her through Kyoto. Kenshin listens, _thinks_, and does not take anything for granted. Kenshin is a good man.

His explanation of why he joined the Imperialists further proved that. There was no ounce of arrogance in him when he gave her his reasons. There probably was some, Kaoru guesses, in the idealistic young boy he must have been not so long ago – that he still is, in some ways – but it has been wiped out by the blood he has made fall. Dreams of grandeur shattered, by his own blade no less, what keeps Kenshin in Kyoto now are selflessness, honour, and his sense of duty.

Still, he murders people. People talk, even during times like these, so Kaoru knows how assassins usually end up: as emotionless killing machines, mad with bloodlust, or with guilt and remorse.

Kaoru knows what she saw: Kenshin is an extraordinary swordsman, and he never hesitated a second against the ninja. Given the blood spatters in the street this morning, he never hesitated a second there either. Slowly, ever so slowly, he is transforming into that perfect killing machine.

Except not. He is conscious of it. He actively fights it. He makes himself watch. He makes himself watch and hear and smell and _feel_. He tears his soul apart – oh Gods, his eyes – because it keeps him _human_, because he _wants_ to pay the price. He imposes his own justice on himself, because no one else will. Hell, the Ishin Shishi probably _praise_ his work.

"_I couldn't accept any reward for the blood I've spilled. No one should be respected for that._" This is what he told her, in that alley. She had not understood, then, how much he meant those words.

While she will never approve of the Shishi's methods, Kaoru does not blame Kenshin. He already takes all the hate he hears and feels, adds some of his own, and keeps it tightly wrapped around himself at all times. She fully realizes, now, that she has forgiven him, and that she is not scared, not anymore. Certainly not after today.

Himura Kenshin is a good man. Himura Kenshin is her _friend_, the one who sent her heart aflutter when he gave her a ribbon. And her friend needs her.

* * *

So Kaoru makes her way to the inn again, long after sunset. No light comes from his bedroom when she reaches it and she doesn't sense his presence either, but it doesn't matter. She has got all night, and more if need be. She finds a quiet corner at a slight distance from the inn, not to arise suspicion, sits down, and waits.

She is watching a stray cat trotting down the street when she sees him shuffling up the riverbank. He carries no lantern, but the moonlight is enough to reveal his bowed head and hunched shoulders.

Oh, how she was right in coming.

She walks up to him, calling him softly. He looks up upon hearing his name – his eyes are as blank as she saw them that morning but a flicker of surprise alights in them. His ki is void but Kaoru can see him trying, trying to focus on her and bring a spark of life back into his eyes. She might cry for him. Later, when he can't see.

"Come with me," she motions for him to follow her and starts walking in the direction he came from. Not hearing his footsteps behind her, Kaoru turns around. Kenshin is still standing in the same spot but he is looking at her, surprise more evident on his face.

"It's this way, come on!" she insists. Without answering, Kenshin follows.

* * *

She takes him to her home, has him sit down as she prepares tea for the two of them. He stays obediently still, incredulity obvious on his face. _Good. Anything but those dead eyes_.

She kneels in front of him a few minutes later and pours him a cup before filling and lifting her own. Kenshin is still staring at her, yet seems to remember his manners as he lifts his cup and sips the beverage first.

His eyes widen in amazement. The stench of blood is still there – on his clothes, in his hair, on his hands, _everywhere _– and saturates his senses but somehow, the tea does not taste of it. Instead he feels warmth and the light bitterness of the green leaves on his tongue, just the way he likes it.

"It's good", he whispers, clearly surprised.

She chuckles, "I can't cook to save my life, but tea, I know how to make. I'm glad you like it."

He nods and takes another sip. _Delicious_.

* * *

Kenshin is not sure how it came to this. Mind reeling, he re-examines the latest events one by one to try to understand what just happened, counting them on his fingers to be sure not to forget something.

He had been drinking tea in Kaoru-dono's dining room. Yes. Then she had _somehow_ convinced him to stay the night and before he knew it he had been given a room, a futon, and a yukata. He knows what prompted this, of course, knows that she saw him this morning in the street. She saw him, and is worried. Again. She asked him to stay so that she could keep an eye on him. From the look she gave him, she wanted to make sure that he would not do something stupid.

Worse – the thought still makes him awkwardly swallow –, from the look she gave him, he is convinced that she was _this close_ to having him sleep in her own room so that she could make _really sure_ that he was okay. He better not try to sneak out before dawn, either. She would have his skin for that, and Kenshin clearly remembers his master teaching him that courage _also_ means knowing how to pick your fights. He knows _much_ better than to tempt Kaoru-dono's wrath.

So he finds himself sitting against the bedroom wall, his katana propped against his shoulder as he listens to Kaoru-dono sleep in the adjacent room.

He will offer to cook breakfast in the morning – it is the least he can do – and, matching his breathing rate to hers, he wonders before falling asleep if she'll serve her delicious tea again.


	7. Tangled Fates

**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings: **Creepy guys.  
**Disclaimer:** *siiiiiiiiiiigh* still not mine.

**Note the first:** Many many thanks to the always-amazing Broomclosetkink for her edits!

**Note the second:** Kaoru hadn't kicked ass in far too long. HERE GOES (there will be more later on). Also: mwahahahahaha! 8D

Tangled Fates

_There are other rumours, too, rumours that go beyond simple information but allow one to appreciate a person's character._

_Kamiya Kaoru apparently is this sweet, smiling, always positive young woman who tries her best to cheer up everyone. As a kenjutsu master, she has sworn to protect those who cannot defend themselves._

_And she does. _

_From helping lost children home to fighting off thugs attacking women in dark alleys, everyone has a story to share._

_Some wish she were more of a proper lady. Most are just grateful for her help in these uncertain times._

* * *

Something changes, after that night, as if a barrier they did not know existed has been torn down. Kenshin is ashamed to admit that Kaoru has now seen the worst of him. Fresh blood on his hands, and how he likes to reopen the wounds again and again, to never, never let himself forget.

And yet, for all that she should be scared and disgusted, she still welcomes him with open arms. She smiles as easily, as genuinely as ever, and there is _something_ in her eyes, something Kenshin has no words for, but that makes him feel human, and that much closer to whole.

Kenshin never mentions that night, or how Kaoru's affection – what else can he call it, when she took the pieces of him and brought him into her home, and didn't let him go before they stuck together again – is a balm to his battered soul. Sometimes he wants nothing more than to hold her in his arms, to feel her warm and real and to _tell her_, in no uncertain words, what she is becoming to him.

Fear stills him.

Not of rejection, he is fairly sure that Kaoru would not, at least not in a way that would ruin their friendship. He is afraid of what _he_ would bring her. His enemies know his face, now, and he already puts her at risk by simply standing next to her, so if word got around of what she means to him… She is strong, yes, and can defend herself, but… No. He cannot allow this. Cannot repay her kindness with more violence, more blood, when she deserves so much more.

Taking her hand in silent thanks in the privacy of her home, or pressing his to the small of her back as they navigate dense crowds is all he dares – but he commits the way her hand feels, the soft skin on the back of it, the calluses on her fingers and palm, to the most secure parts of his memory, and goes out at night to also fight for the day Battousai's shadow won't threaten her anymore.

* * *

Despite the late hour, the Shirobeko is as full as ever when Kaoru walks in, well aware that Sae's constantly cheerful attitude is to thank for it as much as the good, reasonably priced food. People come to the Shirobeko to relax, not to plot yet another attack, making the place a much-appreciated haven in the surrounding madness.

Kaoru barely has time to sit at a table before Sae walks up to her, immaculate apron and warm smile firmly in place.

"Good evening, Kaoru. We don't usually see you here so late…"

"Good evening, Sae." Her friend's smile is contagious, and Kaoru can't help but feel her own lips stretch in return. "The class just ran later than usual, and I was starving, so…"

Sae giggles, "That's all right, you're always welcome here! You'll have the usual? And no Himura-san tonight?"

"Yes, please, and no, Kenshin is not coming tonight…"

"That's too bad, he hasn't been here in a while," Sae pouts. She has taken a strong interest in Kenshin that Kaoru suspects borders on a crush, so much so that their conversations inevitably end up mentioning him, and his violet eyes, and his politeness, and… Kaoru chuckles, wondering not for the first time whether Kenshin's obliviousness to Sae's attention is feigned or not. Surely Kenshin is sharp enough to have noticed, right? Then again…

"Ah well, tell him he's welcome here anytime he wants," Sae adds before walking off to meet new customers.

Waiting for her meal, Kaoru lets her eyes wander to the rest of the room – a few families eating heartily, men laughing loudly, one too many bottles of sake between them, couples, a few loners like herself, the strings of a shamisen being plucked in some corner she cannot see… The Shirobeko is as lively as ever.

Still, Sae gone, Kaoru's smile quickly falters. No, no Kenshin tonight. Kaoru knows all too well what this means, and her heart sinks at the implications. She knows what people will say come morning: more blood raining on Kyoto, adding to Battousai's terrifying legend. She does not approve. Does not approve of the Shishi's ruthless methods, does not approve of the way people talk, when they don't know what she does.

She knows what she will tell the gossipers. That this war is not just some epic clash of steel and ideals, but that it is really about men, flesh and bones and blood, husbands and fathers and sons, risking their lives out there. And that for every man who fights for his own glory, there is also a good, an _honourable_ man, fighting for something he genuinely believes in.

She has made her choice. She will stand by Kenshin. Bring him back when the assassin's madness threatens to take over him, help him not lose himself. Determination pumps in her veins, quiet but strong.

Kenshin never mentions _that_ day. She respects his silence, but cannot forget the fierce need to _protect_ that shook her heart when she saw him in that street. She wanted to hold him, then, shield him and tell him that everything would be all right, that she was there, that she would help. She had barely dared to offer a cup of tea – impulsive as she could sometimes be, even she could tell he was far, far too raw to tolerate anything else, that any direct touch would have felt like whiplash to him.

If she is truly honest with herself… she cares. A lot. She cares for this idiot of a man who carves out pieces of his soul for a utopia because he could not live with himself if he didn't. She cares for how he listens and respects her, for how he opens up only to her, for how he always ignores himself and struggles to _do the right thing_.

She knows he cares, too, in the way he says her name. He says it much like she pronounces his own – she says it like it's a chance she never thought she would have, she says it to feel it roll off her tongue, just because she _can_. And she hasn't missed the way he stands closer to her than strictly appropriate, or how his hand lingers on the small of her back when no one can see. She has seen how he looks at her, how his eyes turn to calm violet when he is with her.

And yet, he holds back. He is constantly on alert when they're out in Kyoto, his senses stretching to detect the slightest threat, which can only mean he is trying to protect her. She would call it ridiculous, but he knows things that she doesn't, more than he can tell, and the last thing she wants is to put him more at risk by being foolish. So he holds back and she will not push, but also won't let him drift away.

Because, honourable as Kenshin is, it is not _fair_, to either of them, and she wishes he would be selfish, just once, to accept what she offers and let her take him away from Kyoto. All the while knowing that he never will.

* * *

Long minutes pass, and Kaoru is having a bad night. She misses her friend, is angry at the reason of his absence, and her new understanding of her feelings towards him have only dampened her mood – Sae's innocent mention of him has put this into sharp contrast, and Kaoru does not know yet how to deal with the pang of pain in her chest this knowledge has caused.

* * *

Later, Kaoru watches out of the corner of her eye as Sae firmly asks two overly enthusiastic drunken men to leave, in case she needs help. They yell, and tug at Sae's kimono, and make Kaoru put her chopsticks down and grab her bokken, but another patron intervenes before she can – no distinctive sign but he is samurai, his daisho clearly visible at his waist – and finally convinces them to leave.

Kaoru searches Sae's eyes, but the older woman only nods and smiles to reassure her.

Relaxing somewhat, Kaoru turns back to her meal.

She can only swallow two more pieces of meat before she hears the first yells.

* * *

This time, she is the first one on the scene. The two drunken men from before have rounded a corner into the small alley where the Shirobeko stores empty crates. There is a woman with them, a woman that they hold to the wall. Kaoru sees her try to free herself from the men's grasp, but drunk as they are, they are still stronger than her, and her kimono restrains her movements as much as alcohol slows theirs. Blood drips from one of the men's hand, from where the woman apparently bit him. He must be the one Kaoru heard yelling.

She is not in the mood for patience but honour dictates that she warns them. So she does. Once.

"Let her go!" she shouts. Startled, the men do stop, and turn to her.

And laugh at the girl playing with a wooden stick.

Kaoru moves too fast for them.

One yank on the back of the first man's gi, two well-placed strikes, and he lies unconscious on the ground.

The other pulls a knife from his sleeve and swings it at her. Whirling on her heel, Kaoru deviates the blow and takes a step closer, until she is past his hand. The hilt of her bokken slams into the man's solar plexus and he falls to his knees, gasping for air. One last blow, and he joins his friend in the dusty alley.

It is only then that Kaoru notices that a small crowd has followed her out of the Shirobeko, Sae in their lead. Kaoru nods once, notifying them that the show is over and that yes, she is fine. Then she turns to the young woman still standing by the wall.

"Are you okay?" Kaoru's hand reaches out to her. It is not the first time she has helped women this way, and knows that some will need to cling to a comforting hand for a while. But she does not expect this young woman to try to reel backwards, eyes still wide with fear, mouth open in silent denial, as if Kaoru herself were one of her attackers. On instinct, Kaoru lowers her hand and bokken to appear as non-threatening as she can, but the girl has already moved and with one last, frightened look, she melts into the darkness.

"Well…" Sae walks up to Kaoru. Neither knows what to make of this turn of events. "She could have at least thanked you…"

"She seemed frightened of me," Kaoru is still staring at the corner the young woman disappeared behind as if it could explain what just happened. "Not because of those thugs. She was genuinely afraid of _me_, as if I were some… some ghost or something." The more she thinks about it, the more she knows it to be true. Not that she has the slightest idea why.

Sae can only place a calming hand on her friend's shoulder and stir her back towards the restaurant, where the rest of her meal awaits her.

* * *

Wanting to get farther, farther away, Yukishiro Tomoe runs.


End file.
